Sarah, the Fury and Valhalla
by William Ashbless
Summary: When your call sign is Archangel, what does that mean?


**A/N: It's a thousand to one, a million to two. I'm not particularly thrilled about Morgan getting the Intersect. But then again, I'm not particularly thrilled about being stuck on a story for quite some time. So here's a short one shot to tide me over. Hope you enjoy it! Oh, I don't own Chuck!**

She stood on the edge of the observation deck, perfectly still, focused on the task at hand, refusing to let the anger, the bitterness, consume her. She ran through the checklist, physically touching each component of the gear, from the d-rings of the parachute to the six Dakota knives strapped to her thighs, her S&W 5906 riding on her right hip.

The ear wig continued it's buzzing, it's non stop insistentence of letting the Intersect do it's job. Times like this she really missed when it was just the three of them. The problem was it was no longer just the three of them, hadn't really been for a long time. The Intersect, while workable in some scenarios, was wholly unsuited to what she felt was it's primary mission. Keeping her husband safe.

I can't wait much longer, she thought. I'm stronger, faster, smarter then the Intersect. No, I'm not saying I'm sorry. It's a river of weakness that has brought us to this point. Now, HE, would say whatever doesn't kill us, makes us stronger.

Yeah, right, sweetie. If the Intersect kills you, I'm dead. It's that simple. And, I need you. I know you have plans, but let's face it there's only one of you and one of me. If you think I'm going to put your safety, your life, our future in the hands of Morgan! Well, let's just say, I'm not going to end up desperate and broken because I put your life in someone else's hands.

She exhaled, once, twice and then spoke:

'Control, this Archangel. Time-stamp 2314 hours. I'm assuming tactical control. Hammer has operational command. Hammer, switch to channel 4.'

'Sarah. I'm assuming you have a plan?' Casey's clipped tones spoke volumes. She could tell he was pissed that the original plan had gotten away from them so bad that she had to step in. She knew he also hated being 3000 miles away when she was about to go in, but he was still in a cast from the last little misstep of the Intersect.

'No. Not really a plan. More like a linear objective. He's there. I'm here. The shortest distance between me and him is straight down.'

'Oh. So you're pulling a Tom Cruise? Not that that's a bad idea, but how you gonna get out?'

'Yeah, well, I figure, I'd spie my way out.'

'You know he's afraid of heights. You sure?'

'You know, I'm kinda pissed at him right now for getting my husband in this mess. He'll be at the bottom of the stick, so if he pukes, it won't be on me!'

Casey grunted #17. 'Yeah, well, bring him home in one piece, physically. Emotionally, that's all on you.'

She smiled a cold, cold smile, no teeth and switched channels. 'Control, activate Valhalla. Three minutes from my mark. Acknowledge.'

'Archangel, this is Control. Activate Valhalla on three minutes from your mark. Fury is on station. Good hunting ma'am.'

'Thank you Control. And for the record, I don't blame this on anyone of you. Xbox and I will have a long conversation about protecting Sherlock. Mark.'

She clicked the rope into the D-ring, took a deep breath, leaned over the edge, and dove off head first, the wind whipping by her. Falling at 27 meters per second, her target was the 72nd floor, 4.6 seconds away, or the length of her fast rope, plus 15 meters. Take your pick. Pride or fate, take your pick, either I'll make or not, she thought.

Two seconds. Random thought. Wonder if he would be okay with going to the south of France next week for a couple of days off?

Three seconds. Damn. Clara's birthday is in nine days. Wonder if she would like a purse? Is two too early for Gucci? Nah. Marc Jacobs?

Four seconds. Time to brake. She stopped just higher then the 72nd floor. She locked herself into place, and removed a small cylinder from her combat vest. Aiming carefully at the four corners of her target window, she depressed a button on the cylinder. Four fluorescent paint markings were the result. She holstered the cylinder and pulled out her S&W 5906.

'Control, Archangel'

'Archangel, this is Control. Go ahead.'

'Control, activate Fury. Target is painted. Four shots and then clear. Confirm.'

'Four shots on your mark, confirm.'

'Control, Valhalla status please.'

'Archangel, this is Control. Valhalla, time on target, two minutes twenty seven seconds and counting.'

'Control, this is Archangel. Fury, fire.'

'Archangel, Control. Fury is firing.'

Four loud sonic booms echoed through the night, as precisely placed .50 rounds took out the window supports holding the float glass in place. The result shattered the glass, exposing the inner room to the outside elements.

She unlocked her fast rope, pushed out with her legs, and swung into the room, her eyes assessing targets and friendlies. Immediately assessing the threats, she pulled the trigger twice while still swinging into the room. Two men dropped to the ground, dead. Releasing the rope, she ran to the door leading out, ignoring the men tied to chairs, staring open mouthed at her. Wrestling chairs and cabinets, and anything handy, she blocked the exit. Turning back to the tied up men, without saying a word, she cut them loose.

'Sarah!'

'Chuck, we have no time. The extraction is coming in less than 90 seconds.' Speaking rapidly, Sarah removed her backpack and pulled out belt and harness combinations. 'Here, put these on, both of you.'

'That was awesome! Chuck, did you see that? She dove in just like Mission Impossible 3!' Morgan babbled.

Moving quickly, Sarah put on her version of the belt and harness, and then forcibly dragged Chuck and Morgan to the blown out window.

'Morgan. I need you to stand here. Chuck, stand here.'

The blocked door began to shake, as more and more people tried to force the door. At that same time, Sarah's earwig buzzed.

'Archangel, Valhalla is inbound in 5 seconds.'

A loud hum emanated from outside the blown out window, followed by a thick cable, with rings spaced every few feet, shot it's way inside. Sarah grabbed the cable, hooked herself to it, then motioned for Chuck and Morgan to do the same.

'Sarah, honey' Chuck said quietly. 'You know how he is about heights, right?'

'Chuck, baby, he shouldn't have let them stick a gun in your face, right?' She grinned evilly. 'Besides, he's at the end, so if he pukes...well let's just say I won't care!'

'Archangel, Valhalla is lifting.'

'As you wish!' yelled Chuck, a big million watt smile lighting up, as the cable jerked and the three friends were pulled out into the open night sky over Shanghai as the massive unmanned aerial vehicle pulled them up and away into safety.

'And don't you forget it husband mine!'


End file.
